Gospel Story Finder

If you can’t talk, can you still have a friend? Hayden Rushton has autism, which is a brain development disorder. It is very hard for him to understand and talk with others. But he has dozens of friends. They are the children in his Primary.
When Hayden first went to Primary, he cried and didn’t talk at all. He lives with his grandparents, and his grandmother had to stay with him to help him in Primary. Then his Primary leaders had an idea about how to help Hayden. And every child in Primary would get to help too.
Now Hayden goes to a class with his own teacher. The Primary children take turns going to Hayden’s class. Two older children go during senior sharing time, and two younger children go during junior sharing time. They look at books with Hayden and help him learn to do new things. They also help him learn how to get along with friends.
One of the older boys drew a picture of Hayden’s favorite animated character. Hayden loved it! One five-year-old friend has been very patient as he shows Hayden how to use things. All of the children try to be kind and helpful.
Thanks to the Primary children, Hayden has learned a lot. And thanks to them, Hayden doesn’t have just one friend—he has a whole Primary full of them!

My father had an idea that his boys ought to learn to work in the summer as well as in the winter, and so he bought a five-acre farm which eventually grew to include more than 30 acres. We lived there in the summer and returned to the city when school started.
We had a large orchard, and the trees had to be pruned each spring. Father took us to pruning demonstrations put on by experts from the agriculture college. We learned a great truth—that you could pretty well determine the kind of fruit you would pick in September by the way you pruned in February. Further, we learned that new, young wood produces the best fruit. That has had many applications in life (from Ensign, May 1993, 52).

Ídolos was a television show I really enjoyed watching. I have always liked performing and hoped to someday enter a music competition. This year I didn’t hesitate; I simply signed myself up for the show and went to the audition with my dad. I guess you could say I’ve been preparing for Ídolos my entire life. Every experience I had with Ídolos was amazing, without exception. I tried to take advantage of every opportunity that came my way.

Once during a dinner with the other contestants, we talked a little bit about religion, and I spoke about my faith and the standards of the Church. Later I gave each of the finalists a copy of the For the Strength of Youth pamphlet so they could better understand what I believe. Some said the Church’s standards seemed really conservative, but others praised me for having such high standards in these days.

I continued to say my prayers, read my scriptures, participate in seminary, and take the sacrament every Sunday. I am currently preparing to serve a mission, which is something I’ve wanted to do since I was little. I serve in my ward as ward pianist, ward missionary, and assistant to the bishop in the priests quorum. I had to dedicate almost all my time to the competition, but I made sure to first dedicate time to the Lord.

It was a cloudy Sunday morning as I stood at the kitchen sink finishing the breakfast dishes. My two youngest children were watching a scripture video in the family room by the kitchen. I was lost in thought, and my cheeks were wet from tears. I couldn’t get my mind off the cancer that had invaded our home. My husband had been fighting it for several years, but now it had spread. My faith seemed to be wavering. My mind was crowded with “what if?” thoughts.
Suddenly the scripture video interrupted my thoughts with words from a calming voice: “Peace, be still. …
“Why are ye so fearful? how is it that ye have no faith?” (Mark 4:39–40).
I dropped the dishrag and turned to look at the TV. The video was about the Savior calming the storm. It was as if the words had been spoken to me by the Savior Himself. A feeling of warmth and peace flooded over me. It was a reminder to stick to the faith I had learned so much about through the years of cancer. It was a faith buttressed by words in my patriarchal blessing.
I received my patriarchal blessing when I was 15. One sentence that then seemed just to describe a part of my temple marriage now held great promise for me. It spoke of the righteous priesthood holder I would marry and said that he would “help thee, guide thee and aid thee, not only in thy youth but clear into thy later years.”
As I read and reread my patriarchal blessing during the years of battling cancer, that sentence gave me great hope. Each time, I found renewed faith in the promise of our future together. I remembered the great comfort that the Spirit had given me when my husband was first diagnosed. I memorized that part of my patriarchal blessing, and when cancer tests came back with poor results, I remembered that promise.
I learned to let the Savior carry us, I learned that I must keep my faith constant, and I learned to combat mounting fears with faith. The video that morning reminded me to rely on the Lord.
Having faith gives me the ability to let Jesus Christ carry my burden. Just as the people of Alma who were in bondage did not feel the burden on their backs (see Mosiah 24:14), so it is for our family with fighting cancer. Our family has been able to face cancer without feeling the burdens it could bring.
Learning the Painful Lessons
“Difficulties come into our lives, problems we do not anticipate and which we would never choose. None of us is immune. The purpose of mortality is to learn and to grow to be more like our Father, and it is often during the difficult times that we learn the most, as painful as the lessons may be.”
President Thomas S. Monson, “God Be with You Till We Meet Again,” Liahona, Nov. 2012, 111.
My husband still undergoes tests to track the cancer cells or to find possible tumors. We still have medical bills and the remaining side effects of treatments. And I still pray every day that my husband will have no more cancer. I pray that we will both live to old age. I also say to Heavenly Father, “Thy will be done.”
I do not know when the “later years” spoken of in my blessing will come. I hope the words in my blessing mean that my husband and I will be able to go on a mission when our children are raised. I hope they mean that my husband will lead our horse while giving rides to our grandchildren and will bounce our grandchildren on his knee. But I know that whenever God takes him from this earth, it will be in His time.
I no longer worry about when those “later years” are. It does not matter. I trust that the Lord will honor that promise made to me in my patriarchal blessing. He has taken care of us through these years, and He will take care of us in the future.
If you have not received your patriarchal blessing, consider talking to your bishop or branch president about receiving one. If you have a patriarchal blessing, do you read and ponder it often? Do you have faith in the Lord’s promises?

For nearly three years now I have worn a wristband. I wear it in honor of a great young man who has had a tremendous influence for good in the lives of many people, including my own. This young man's name is Tyler Soelberg. Tyler is one of my 29 nieces and nephews, all of whom I love dearly. When Tyler was just a little guy, my friend and I were working on a small project. Tyler walked into the room with his grandpa, stood there for just a moment and then curiously asked about what we were doing. As I began to explain to this 5 year old that we were building a desk, he quickly picked up a screwdriver and said, "I want to help!" This was our Tyler--the helper--always in the midst of doing something--and usually a good something.

As Tyler grew, he was a smart, talented young man, always doing kind things for others. Tyler had lots of friends. This crazy, curly blonde haired boy adored what he called "the beautiful game" of soccer. He loved life. He loved his family. He loved the Savior and the gospel, and had a burning testimony of the Savior's great atoning sacrifice. Tyler was a giver. He served an honorable mission in Albania, and was a great leader there, serving as Branch President. Tyler loved to travel, and could get just about anywhere on very little money. He traveled to Peru and Honduras to work on a humanitarian project. To me, Tyler defied gravity--that's what my wristband says--defy gravity.

After his mission, Tyler attended the University of Utah, where he majored in both Film & Media Arts and Physics. Did I mention how smart and creative Tyler was? Brilliant in my estimation. When it came time to graduate in the spring of 2011 he was invited to speak at his convocation in the College of Science. In that speech, he encouraged his fellow graduates "to be playful, to take risks and to be creative." He also reminded them that life is very precious.

Not many weeks after that graduation speech, Tyler was taken from this earth in a tragic bicycling accident. Oh, how our hearts ached! They still ache. But Tyler's death helped us focus on the great and tender mercies of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Tyler had reminded us that life was very precious. In remembering Tyler, we remember to see the best in others, to serve others, to realize the truth of who we are as children of God.

On Tyler's Facebook page, his friend Daniel Clark, wrote the following:
"My good friend Tyler Soelberg passed away in a bike accident today. I would invite you to tell someone who's close to you how they have changed your life. It's astonishing how quickly you can lose your chance. Tyler helped me understand that excellence happens in the quiet parts of life. He was an example of being accepting of anyone. I'm glad to have known him and I'm grateful for the impression he left on me."

Yes, Tyler was a giver. He had even designated himself as an organ donor, and continues to bless the lives of those who received his precious and healthy organs. Each of us has the ability to reflect the light of our Savior as we live the gospel and serve others. Tyler reflected that light throughout his life, and beyond. Tyler not only defies gravity now--he soars with the angels. He is our guardian angel, along with so many others who have gone before and set such a great example of love and service. He has influenced my life for good. Tyler would have put my fence back up for me, as I'm sure many of you would. Some of you did!

When I was recently assigned to a conference in the Mission Viejo California Stake, I was touched by an account of their four-stake New Year’s Eve youth dance. Following the dance, a purse was found with no outside identification. I share with you part of what Sister Monica Sedgwick, the Young Women president in the Laguna Niguel stake, recorded: “We didn’t want to pry; this was someone’s personal stuff! So we gingerly opened it and grabbed the first thing that was on top—hopefully, it would identify her. It did, but in another way—it was a For the Strength of Youth pamphlet. Wow! This told us something about her. Then we reached in for the next item, a little notebook. Surely this would give us answers, but not the kind we were expecting. The first page was a list of favorite scriptures. There were five more pages of carefully written scriptures and personal notes.”
The sisters immediately wanted to meet this stalwart young woman. They returned to that purse to identify its owner. They pulled out some breath mints, soap, lotion, and a brush. I loved their comments: “Oh, good things come out of her mouth; she has clean and soft hands; and she takes care of herself.”
They eagerly awaited the next treasure. Out came a clever little homemade coin purse made from a cardboard juice carton, and there was some money in a zippered pocket. They exclaimed, “Ahh, she’s creative and prepared!” They felt like little children on Christmas morning. What they pulled out next surprised them even more: a recipe for Black Forest chocolate cake and a note to make the cake for a friend’s birthday. They almost screamed, “She’s a HOMEMAKER! Thoughtful and service minded.” Then, yes, finally some identification. The youth leaders said they felt greatly blessed “to observe the quiet example of a young lady living the gospel.”6

Harold B. Lee was a busy man. He was a city commissioner, stake president, husband, and father of two little girls.
It was early morning on the day before Christmas. President Lee had been up all night, helping city crews snowplow the streets. Now he was on his way home to change clothes before going to his office.
He saw a small boy by the side of the road. The boy had no coat, no gloves, and no overshoes. President Lee stopped the car and offered the boy a ride into town.
As they road along, the man and boy began to talk. President Lee asked the boy if he was ready for Christmas.
He was shocked when the boy replied that there would be no Christmas at his house. His father had just died, and the family had no money. Before President Lee dropped the boy off in town, he asked him his name and address.
That Christmas Eve, as Harold B. Lee and the bishops in his stake delivered gifts to needy families, he remembered the young boy. He asked one of the bishops to take some Christmas boxes to the boy’s family.

Fourteen-year-old Angela realized that their trip to Japan was more than just one performance after another, more than Polynesian and Native American song and dance. She discovered this one night when she looked out into the audience while the family was singing "Love at Home" in Japanese and several people were crying.

"When I performed, I didn’t realize that a lot of people were looking at me. I didn’t realize that we might touch them a lot. I’d always thought I was just performing to entertain them," she says. "But then it really brought out the message to them that families are forever and when we have a happy family, when we go to church, and when we keep the commandments, we will be happy."

Looking for ideas for an Eagle project? Check out what these youths did:
Clark Rogers of Madison, Alabama, teamed up with Dr. Danny Cartwright, a pediatrician in his town, to spread the antismoking message. Clark oversaw a committee that gathered information about smoking advertising. He and Dr. Cartwright then held a press conference about why teens shouldn’t smoke. The press conference was featured in three newspapers and two evening news shows.

“I went a little farther that time!” Lewis exclaimed, marking where he had landed with a stick. A new house was being built next door, and six-year-old Lewis loved playing in the big piles of dirt. He especially liked to jump off the top of a pile with his brother and see who could go the farthest. Jumping was the next best thing to flying, and Lewis wanted more than anything to be able to fly. Not just to ride in a plane—he’d done that lots of times with his dad in a little four-seat airplane—he wanted to fly like a bird. He thought about it all the time.
Last Sunday, Lewis had been given a lesson in Primary about faith. Sister Jones had said that if you have enough faith, you can do anything—even move mountains! Lewis didn’t want to move a mountain—he wanted to fly over one. He believed that Heavenly Father could help him do that just as easily. Lewis didn’t hear the rest of the lesson that day because he was dreaming about his first flight. He knew exactly how it would be. He would jump off something very high and dive to the earth. Just before he hit the ground, he would pull out of the fall with his arms spread out and glide above the earth, rising higher and higher. He could almost feel the wind in his hair and see the look of surprise on his brother’s face as he flew effortlessly over his head. Yes, it was going to be truly wonderful!
“Lewis,” Mom called from the house.
“Yes, Mom?” he replied from the top of the dirt pile.
“Grandma is here and wants to see you.”
Lewis jumped one more time, marked the spot where he landed, and rushed to the house. “Hi, Grandma. How was your trip?”
“Oh, it was great fun, Lewis. I brought you something.” She held up a small pair of flight attendant wings that she had received on her flight home.
“Wow! Thanks, Grandma!” He had wings! Now he knew he could fly. He pinned them to his shirt and ran outside to the dirt pile. Sure enough, he seemed to jump a little farther and a little higher. The problem, he thought, is that this hill is too small. If I could find something higher, I’m sure I could pull out before I hit the ground.
The next day, Dad took Lewis with him to a construction show. One of the companies there was producing new playground equipment, and Lewis saw the biggest jungle gym he’d ever seen. He grinned. Today was the day he was going to fly!
While his dad was busy talking to some other builders, Lewis pulled the flight attendant wings out of his pocket and pinned them to his shirt, then raced over to the jungle gym. He climbed to the very top bar—about fifteen feet high—and yelled, “Watch this, Dad!” He jumped off, completely unafraid. On the way down, his leg caught on a bar and he crashed to the ground.
Lewis’s leg was broken, and his body was bruised and scratched.
“Are you feeling better now?” Dad asked on the way home from the hospital.
“Dad,” Lewis sobbed, “I don’t understand. In Primary, my teacher said that if I had enough faith, I could do anything.”
“I see. Lewis, you need to understand something about faith. The scriptures say that faith is things which are hoped for which are true. If I believed with all my heart that the oceans are filled with spaghetti, it still wouldn’t be true. Faith in Jesus Christ is true because He really did come and die for us and He really does love you. Faith in the scriptures is true because the Lord really commanded the prophets to write them so we could read them and learn about Jesus Christ. Heavenly Father obeys natural laws, like gravity. Can you see the difference?”
“I guess so.”
Dad continued, “You will be able to fly, Lewis, but on this earth the way you have to do it is by following the natural laws. When you get a little older, you can take flying lessons and get a pilot’s license of your own. Now let’s go home and let that leg heal.”
Today Lewis is grown-up and flies high in the sky as an airline pilot. But he still dreams that the day will come when he will be able to fly through the clouds on his own.

Last year, I damaged my ACL so badly that I had to get major knee surgery. When I found out the surgery was one of the most intensive knee surgeries, I was terrified! I asked for a priesthood blessing and fasted. My family members fasted for me too. My recovery ended up being smooth and quick, and I was so grateful for that.
Fasting can be hard, but for me, the blessings from fasting always outweigh the hunger. It’s a small sacrifice we get to make, and the blessings you receive from giving up two meals and donating fast offerings are totally worth it, no matter how inconvenient it seems.
In this world, we like instant gratification. But if you fast consistently and do other things while you fast, like read your scriptures or work on Personal Progress or Duty to God, you dedicate time to the Savior. As you’re consistent with that, you will be blessed. NE
Elaina K., 17, Washington, USA

A few years ago, my dad’s appendix burst, which was a tender mercy.
Most people wouldn’t say that getting appendicitis and having emergency surgery is a miracle, but it was for my dad.
When the doctor removed my dad’s appendix, he found cancer in it.
Luckily, after some testing, doctors found the cancer hadn’t spread. With his appendix removed, he was cancer free.
When we had time to process this situation, my family felt grateful that my dad’s appendix had burst.
The cancer in his appendix was subtle, and without the emergency surgery, it’s likely it wouldn’t have been noticed until it was too late.
Some people may consider my dad’s story a lucky coincidence, but my family and I know it was a miracle from God.
We may not notice God’s involvement in our lives until we reflect on past experiences. In the moment, my family didn’t think appendicitis was a blessing. We didn’t realize the importance of my dad’s emergency surgery until after the doctor found cancer.

While we were living in California, one of our sons was seriously injured in an automobile accident. His skull was badly fractured, and doctors gave us very little encouragement that he would survive. Three days after he was admitted to the hospital, he contracted meningitis and his condition worsened. Our family doctor and neighbor came to our home and said, “All we can do now is pray.”

And pray we did. For several weeks our neighbors, friends, and business associates joined us in praying for our son and for our own strength. After almost a month, our son’s condition finally stabilized and then improved, and we were blessed to see him eventually recovered and smiling again.

I would not wish a similar experience on anyone, but that terrible, difficult period taught us the principle that President Thomas S. Monson has taught the Church. Said he, “Prayer is the passport to spiritual power.” During our son’s illness, we saw and felt the spiritual power of prayer! Our ward had never prayed harder than it did then, and I don’t think that the members had ever been closer to each other. Our family was sustained by the collective faith and prayers of our friends. And even as our hearts were breaking in fear that we might lose our son, we felt closer to Heavenly Father and more aware of our dependency on Him than at almost any other time in our lives.

Throughout the world in Africa, Asia, the Pacific, North and South America, and Europe, charitable women, united with their families, also make a difference in their communities. On the tiny island of Trinidad, Sister Ramoutar, a busy branch Relief Society president, and her family are helping neighborhood children. The Ramoutars live in a village that is a “drug-infested” place where many parents and adults are addicted to alcohol or are trafficking in drugs. The children are at great risk and are often without supervision. Many do not attend school.
Every Thursday night, as many as 30 children, ages 3 to 19 years, sit in the covered area outside of the Ramoutar home, eagerly participating in a group known as “Our One Big Happy Family.” Prayers, hymns, fun songs, and the sharing of good deeds done by the children each week are part of the activities. Sometimes doctors, policemen, teachers, or our own missionaries share useful lessons such as President Gordon B. Hinckley’s six B’s. The Ramoutar family rescues children through their small and simple acts of charity. As they have shared the gospel in their “One Big Happy Family,” others have joined the Church.

Everyone in my school class was supposed to bring a gift to exchange at our Christmas party. We put our gifts under the tree, and then we could pick any gift except for the one we brought. When the last boy was called to pick a gift, he said the one gift that was left was the one he had brought. It was only a folded-up piece of paper. No one wanted to trade their gift for the piece of paper. After a few seconds of silence, I said I would trade. A wonderful feeling came over me as I handed him my unwrapped gift and took the piece of paper from him. Even though I didn’t get a gift like the rest of my class, I felt happy because I knew I did the right thing. That is the best gift of all.

During summer vacation, this group participated in a not-so-typical youth conference: five days of hard work. And many of them even knew in advance that it would be hard work, because they had done the same thing last year.

“Sure it’s lots of work,” said 16-year-old Shirley Frazier. “But it’s also lots of fun. We play when we work. It’s not every day you get to work side by side with members of your ward. A bond is established, and I feel closer to the members of my ward and to the Lord.”

How much work can 47 youth do on a ranch in five days? Plenty. For example, they built fences with wooden posts and barbed wire, and they built a small bridge across a creek. They tilled and weeded a garden. They even finished constructing a barn (where they would perform plays and skits). As if that weren’t enough, they also cleaned up an old farmhouse once inhabited by barn swallows and mice, built a retaining wall with rocks they had gathered in a field nearby, and planted flowers.

You’d think that would be enough to tire them out. But there was also time for the fun usually associated with youth conferences. They boated, they fished, they swam. They played baseball in a pasture, organized and participated in a lip-synch contest where they imitated singers from the ’50s to the ’80s, and enjoyed a hayride on a wagon pulled by a team of Clydesdale horses.

Like the unique focus of the conference, The Ranch is also unique in its character. The young men and women are quick to point out some reasons why. For example, there is an outdoor eating place known as the “Chuckwagon,” located where cattle used to roam the fields. The building that is now the kitchen was a place of shelter where the cattle sought refuge from the hot, blistering sun, or the hard, cold Idaho winters. Sister Hamnett still laughs as she explains how they had to borrow a tractor and clean two feet of manure off the ground when the transformation from cattle lounge to Chuckwagon began. But the youth don’t mind the Chuckwagon’s past. In fact, as soon as they arrived Monday afternoon, they were scrubbing down tables, and sweeping and mopping the floor in preparation for some “good fixin’s.”

And if you take a walk up the hill above the lake to look at The Ranch, you’ll get a bird’s-eye view of the six sheep wagons. Built by Carlisle himself, they provide cozy sleeping quarters for some of the guests. The six wagons are arranged in a tight circle in a small meadow, as if part of an old western movie set. You’d almost expect a few cowboys in chaps to come walking out of one of them.

And the garden. Well, that’s where an 80-year-old barn stood, until the weight of winter snow on the roof caused the structure to buckle. Youth from the ward helped weed and till the ground where the barn used to be in preparation for planting flowers and vegetables.

“Here, weeding is fun,” said 17-year-old Lisa Patterson. “I think working together seems to make it more fun, especially because we’re giving service.”

Corey Wride, 17, agreed, and added, “I was surprised at how the adults passed responsibilities on to us.” Even with all that good food at the Chuckwagon ready to be eaten by hungry, hardworking teenagers, Corey’s favorite expression seemed to be, “Well, I’m ready to get back to work.”

My first experience with BYUH wasn't typical to what one might think. When I was 16 years old I was invited by my older sister to come to paradise and babysit her toddler during my six week school holiday. When the idea of going to Hawaii was proposed to me by my parents my teenage imagination began to conjure up images of long leisurely days at the beach, mild tropical evenings, and the chance of meeting "those good looking Hawaiian boys." My brother in-law was a student and my sister worked part time at the PCC business office to put him through school. When her supervisor gave her the opportunity to increase her hours for a limited time she jumped at the chance, facilitating a need for a babysitter.

The reality of my situation quickly set in upon my arrival at their cramped one bedroom, non air conditioned TVA apartment. Soon after, I had my first encounter with a cockroach-- one I will never forget. I jumped so high I lost my balance tripped, with my arms flailing about, I fell backwards landing next to my little niece who had been playing quietly nearby. Upon seeing this she threw back her head and burst out laughing.

My holiday consisted of cleaning the apartment and watching a very curious and active toddler—quite an eye opener for a young girl, far from home, who wasn't used to the isolation, heat and humidity. The only social life I had was to have lunch with my sister. My niece and I followed a daily routine which consisted of making our way past the beautiful entrance of the school, through the Aloha center which was always bustling with students and to enter the PCC through the back gate. (They let anyone in back then). Following lunch we would make our trek back to TVA until it was time to meet my sister after work. My dream of relaxing days at the beach seemed far away. For most 16 year olds, friends and a social life are very important and so by the end of my tenure as nanny, I yearned for home-- my friends, family and a familiar climate.

When my vacation was up, I had no intention of ever returning to Hawaii. I'd had enough! However, an interesting thing happened to me on my trip home. After fastening my seatbelt and waiting for take off, I was looking out of the airplane window at the lights of Honolulu, when I had a strong impression that grew until it permeated every part of my body and mind. The impression was that I was to return to BYU Hawaii and that this campus would play a pivotal role in my life. I didn't understand it, yet I couldn't I deny it. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer asking the Lord to guide and assist me. In the few months that followed I graduated from high school, applied to BYUH and was admitted as a full time student all the time feeling determined and settled about my decision.

A couple of weeks ago I was in Hong Kong and Europe, courtesy of good friends. I'm constantly aware of my responsibility to share the gospel. Our good friends have not been active for over 18 years. Their youngest daughter, who's 18 now, did not know much about the church and was never baptized. After spending time with her as I stayed in her parents' home, I asked her if she'd be willing to learn more about Jesus and the purpose of our life here and bore her my testimony that it would be one of the most important things in her life. She said yes! I made sure the best missionaries would teach her and I heard from her that she is very happy and the members told me she wants to be baptized. I told her parents the last day I was there what I had done! I do not think they'll be mad at me, though I didn't wait around to find out.

We experienced a special day in our family on January 4, 1997. My brother organized a party honoring the 200th birthday of Gustavus Adolphus Perry. He was an important member of our family tree. He was baptized in 1832 and became the first of our family to embrace the gospel. The Perry family history records this remarkable event:
As a part of the birthday celebration, my brother spent a year searching for the descendants of Gustavus Adolphus Perry. We were amazed at the record he had on the table before us as we celebrated. He had found more than 10,000 descendants of this good man. The number overwhelmed me. Suddenly I realized the value of a good name. In seven to eight generations, his family had sufficient numbers to organize three stakes of Zion.

Several years ago, a student disclosed a problem to me that they felt should be addressed with their bishop. However, they said that they needed to get the problem resolved first before they met with him. This noble student was trying to take responsibility for their problem (which is admirable), but they got it backwards. Seeking help before the problem is fixed is much more noble and effective than hoping we can fix it on our own and not sharing our burden. I encourage you to test this principle by picking a problem you have and asking for help in solving it. See what happens.